Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(61)

A gunshot jerked him out of his mind. A gunshot coming from Lily’s apartment. His blood turned to ice. Neither he nor Lucky hesitated. They yanked their guns out of their cuts and sprinted toward the door that he only now noticed was ajar.





Both of us turned our gazes to Asher and Lucky, who were standing in the doorway with blank expressions, bodies taut. Their muscled arms were both extended, each aiming a gun at Dylan’s head.

Asher’s gaze flickered over me, stopping at my eyes and then his fury turned palpable.

“Come here, flower,” he ordered tightly. “Behind me.”

I considered it. The safety he represented. My eyes flickered to my best friend curled in the corner. For a moment my mind showed me the image of my mom in a similar position all those years ago. I made a split second decision. Not lowering my gun, I skirted around Dylan to rush to Bex’s side, crouching down so I could gather her in my arms.

“Are you okay?” I whispered urgently.

She groaned and pushed herself up from the wall slightly. “Yeah, f*cker hits like a girl,” she replied shakily.

“This bitch a whore for the Sons now?” Dylan asked conversationally, jerking his head at Bex and I. “You’ve got no power here. This one’s mine, you’re both as likely to shoot me as the little mouse over here,” he gloated, obviously not clocking the fact that he had three guns pointed at him and two very murderous stares directed his way.

A gunshot made me jump and cover Bex protectively with my body. I gaped at Lucky as Dylan sunk to his knees in pain, clutching a bloody shoulder. Asher stared at him too, expressionless.

Lucky shrugged at the attention on him. “My finger slipped,” he explained nonchalantly, though fury danced in his eyes.

“You’ll pay for that,” Dylan bit out in fury. “You don’t f*ckin’ shoot me without—”

He was cut off as Asher stepped forward and cold cocked him with his gun, his body crumpling to the ground. Asher stared at the unconscious body in disgust for a split second before his eyes cut to me. Lucky was already kneeling at my side, his face gentle and focused on Bex.

“You need the hospital, sweet thing?” he asked softly, though his jaw was hard.

I moved my eyes from Asher to Bex, wincing at the red mark already forming on her cheek, the marks at her neck. She flinched slightly as she pulled away from me slightly to try and get up.

“No, I’m fine. A couple of bruises,” she rasped, her voice raw.

I tried to stop her from getting up, but Lucky beat me to it. His muscled and tattooed arms gathered her gently to lift her. He stepped over Dylan’s body as if it were a downed dog and set her on the sofa. I watched in amazement as he ran his hands over her body, talking softly, his eyes hard.

Involuntarily, my mind hurtled back to the times I’d sit beside my mom’s bed, my little hands gently trying to bandage cuts with Mickey Mouse Band-Aids, trying to hold in my tears as Mom smiled and told me stories. I didn’t even realize I was still pressed against the wall, clutching the gun until Asher gently removed it from my hands, his eyes glued to my head.

“Flower, I need you to look at me,” he ordered flatly, in a voice devoid of emotion.

I struggled to push off the floor. “Bex,” I protested loudly, needing to make sure she was okay.

Hands at my shoulders stopped me. “Lucky’s got her,” Asher told me firmly. “Right now, I need to make sure I don’t put another bullet hole in our friend over there.” He nodded his head to the body currently staining our carpet with blood. “The only way that’s going to happen is if I’m certain my little flower is going to be okay,” he clipped, lightly pressing on my head with a bandana from his pocket.

I winced as the pressure radiated pain through my skull.

Asher’s jaw turned granite. “Are you feeling any dizziness? Nausea?” he asked softly.

“No,” I replied distractedly. “Lucky, you just shot someone,” I said to the biker’s back.

“Sure did, squirt,” he replied breezily, frowning at Bex, who was now sitting up, glaring at the place where Asher was wiping.

“Give me your gun,” she commanded him, holding out a shaky hand. “I’ll kill that mother f*cker myself for totally ruining my ability to wear a tank top for the next month and for hurting my best friend,” she hissed with venom. Though she wasn’t convincing considering her face was pale and slightly tight with obvious pain.

Lucky, for once, didn’t smile at her. “Killing someone requires effort. You need to rest. Let us unbattered men do the killing,” he demanded.

I gaped at him. “Killing?” I repeated. “You’re joking, right?”

Lucky glanced at me, and for once, his face held no hint of humor.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Killing is against the law,” I informed the room at large. I didn’t think that was something people would need educating on, obviously, these people, my boyfriend, best friend and Lucky needed reminding.

“So is shooting someone,” Lucky pointed out. “That ship’s already sailed. Go big or go home I say.”

“Yeah, but that was self-defense,” I replied, although I didn’t know how that was really going to hold up considering Lucky wasn’t actually in need of defending.